


Threads of a Tale

by CommanderRoastedWolf



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Pharmercy, Prompt fills!, rocket angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:35:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7160315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderRoastedWolf/pseuds/CommanderRoastedWolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of fills from my tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scuffle

It’s just a scuffle. Angela won’t let her change the channel on the holo from some cooking show to the news. Fareeha is sprawled across the couch on top of the medic, reaching fruitlessly upwards while Angela giggles madly and waves the remote above their heads.

“Angela, please. I can’t stand cooking shows!”

“Ah, ah, mien Liebling. It’s my turn with the holo. I want to watch cooking, and you will just have to put up with it.”

“Angela,” she pleads. Angela bats her hands away again, and tuts.

“If you hate it that much, find something else to do.”

As it happens, Fareeha finds ample entertainment between Angela’s legs for the rest of the afternoon.


	2. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Four years is so long

The rain patters idly on Fareeha’s leather clad shoulders, dripping into her eyes and soaking her hair to her head. Bike helmet tucked neatly under one arm, heart performing a nervous tattoo against her ribs, she gazes up at the house she left four years ago. The house she’s dreamed about for four years.

Inhaling deeply, she opens the gate and starts up the path, boots crunching against the stones of the driveway. A light is on in the upstairs bedroom, illuminating the dark night and the water cascading from the heavens. Each step lessens the ache in her heart. Each step is a step closer to the light of her life.

One shaking finger presses the doorbell. She takes one step back, straightening to her fullest height on their small porch, drawing back her shoulders so she stands proud. So she is something for her love to be proud of.

When the door opens, it isn’t Angela. Instead a small girl with brilliant, almond shaped blue eyes stares up at her, clutching a blanket in one hand. The girl’s blonde hair suits her dark skin - a perfect mix of her mothers’ features. Her mouth opens, and she calls back into the house in a high, querulous voice which brokers no argument, “Mama!”

Fareeha’s heart, already rocketing around her ribcage like some rabbit, lodges in her throat, along with the lump of gathering tears as Angela finally appears.

The years have aged her - the lines around her eyes are deeper, and she has new ones on her forehead. But when she sees her, her smile is as enthralling as looking into the face of God Himself.

Angela gives a wordless cry and they collide together, the daughter they made between them.

She is home. At last.


	3. The Edge of Consciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mornings.

The dawn is quiet.

Silence fills the morning with nothing but the soft breaths of her lover, monotonous and comforting as the gentle ticking of the clock beside her glass of water on the bedside table. A pair of warm arms are tucked around her, legs tangled immovably around hers, keeping her safe and whole as sleep shrugs off its pale veil.

The sun’s fingers probe Fareeha, glimmering into the room through the gap in the curtains. Half asleep, she lets out a small moan, sleepily taking one of the hands curled around her body, linking smooth fingers with her rougher ones. Angela doesn’t stir, but slumbers on.

Fareeha rolls onto her other side. Angela makes several noises in her throat which sound scolding, but she does not wake. She is ruffled in sleep, her blonde hair cascading around her heart-shaped face, her mouth open slightly as she lets out a tiny snore. Fareeha smiles tenderly, leaning in to press a very tiny kiss to the end of Angela’s nose.

She drifts away once more, forehead pressed to Angela’s. It’s a Sunday. The world isn’t burning, the team isn’t demanding their attention. They are safe and warm under the covers of their bed.


	4. Words Aren't Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathless in anger, three words evade them.

Angela’s face is stained with tears. Her bottom lip is trembling, breath heaving in and out of her as they stare at each other across the table. Somehow, the argument has left her, but the fear and pain in Angela’s eyes is branding itself into Fareeha’s brain - a sickening reminder of how she failed.

They’d been discussing her placement with Overwatch’s forces somewhere in America. Angela hadn’t wanted her to go, which was odd in and of itself. She understood duty. She understood the necessity of their jobs. But in this she had been stubborn, bursting into fury the second Fareeha had mentioned it.

So they have reached this impasse, staring at each other. Fareeha doesn’t know what to do, or what to say, and stands there dumbly until Angela marches around the table to her, grabbing her and pulling her close with surprising strength.

Fareeha doesn’t have time to speak as Angela’s lips crash into hers, her arms wrapping around her neck as she kisses her with all of the ferocity of an avenging Valkyrie. Surprised, Fareeha does nothing for a moment, before kissing back, grasping hold of Angela’s hips and holding her tenderly, trying to soothe her with careful brushes of her thumbs against her sides.

 _I love you._ The kiss seems to say.

 _I love you too._ Fareeha thinks to herself. But somehow the words aren’t enough.


	5. A Small Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bread is the butter of any good relationship.

“Take it.”

Half of Angela’s sandwich hovers under Fareeha’s nose. She peers down at it, quirking an eyebrow even as her stomach rumbles loudly.

“I shouldn't…”

Angela just laughs softly and shakes the sandwich enticingly in front of her. Fareeha gives up and takes it, sinking her teeth into the bread. It tastes wonderful. Chicken and lettuce and mayo. Just what she needs.

“Thank you.” Fareeha says when she is done eating. Angela shrugs, and they go back to watching the sun set over the calm sea.

In the gathering silence, Fareeha rests her head on Angela’s shoulder, enjoying the peace of the dusk.


	6. Jealousy Becomes Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barmaids and brawls. Neither are suitable.

“You’re so _brave_.”

Fareeha feels her face stretch into a massive grin as the pretty woman across the bar leans towards her. The club is deep and dark, the music pounding in her ears as the smells of sweat and sex throb around her. Usually she would hate being in a place like this, but Angela is having the time of her life; a quick glance towards the dance floor reveals her dancing happily between Lućio and Lena, her blonde hair untied and flying.

“Not brave,” Fareeha eventually says back, “just doing a job, if I may say so.”

The barmaid smirks, steadily ignoring her harassed looking coworkers in favour of offering Fareeha another drink, “On the house, for a hero as hot as you.”

Fareeha is generally terrible at reading situations, but only one person ever called her hot, and only when that person had tried to drink Lena under the table with tequila. It helped too, that tequila happened to make that person particularly horny. No doubt Angela would laugh about this when she told her.

“I couldn’t.” Fareeha tries to refuse, but a hand on hers stops her.

“Oh, I insist.” Preoccupied with the way the barmaid’s teeth dig into her plump lip, Fareeha fails to notice Angela staggering towards them until the medic is pressing into her side, tucking herself under her arm with some force.

“Made a friend, _baby_?” Angela says, her voice quivering with the alcohol. A quick glance downwards reveals not a drunken haze, but real fury in those brilliant blue eyes, turned dark by the dim lighting.

“Uh, no.” Fareeha replies, pleasantly surprised. “I was just getting more drinks.”

Even if she is socially inept, Fareeha doesn’t miss the way the barmaid and Angela are sizing each other up in exactly the same way two lionesses do when fighting over a kill. Sensing imminent peril, Fareeha opens her mouth to speak, but Angela interrupts her loudly. “My _girlfriend_ is hot, isn’t she? Deserves all the free drinks.”

Without warning, Angela turns to her and drags her down into a very sloppy, disorganised kiss, right in front of the entire team. Cheeks aflame, Fareeha is too stunned to kiss back until sharp teeth nip at her bottom lip and her mind catches up. She responds fiercely, reaching down to give Angela’s ass a tiny squeeze, which produces a giggle and a soft swat on her shoulder when they pull apart. The barmaid forgotten, Fareeha gazes at her radiant lover, lovestruck and complete as Angela turns back to the bar.

“I’ll take seven tequilas, please. Thank you.”

It isn’t until later, when Fareeha is trapped beneath Angela’s surging hips, that she realises the medic was jealous. The thought makes her feel smug in a very pleasant way indeed.


	7. Facing Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stars guide us through the darkest of times.

They stare at the wide sky together, the stars wheeling high above them, cloudless, silent. Lain together in the grass, side by side, their hands clenched together, thumbs brushing soft skin as they watch in silence, waiting with baited breath.

The constellations are there, looking back. Aquila, her mother’s stars, soar across the night sky as though in greeting. Aquarius and Hercules following her path. They are familiar to Fareeha as the sun, and she picks out each star and gives them name. Altair, Beta Aquilae - or Alshain as her mother called it - Gamma Aquilae… the list went on and Angela seemed to be listening raptly, until the quiet falls between them again.

“I was wondering,” Angela murmurs suddenly. Fareeha turns to face her, admiring the arch of her nose and the delicate turn of her chin. Angela is gazing upwards, the light of their campfire making her eyes dance.

“Wondering?”

“What are you most afraid of?” The question prickles a faint memory. Fareeha briefly experiences the image of her mother, bending down to pick her up, her voice whispering comforts into her ear as she screams. Shaking the remembrance away, Fareeha takes to peering into the endless sky again. “When I was little I was terrified of spiders.”

Angela giggles. “Spiders?”

Fareeha feels her face spread into a smile. “Oh, yes. They move too quickly. And they have too many legs.”

A kiss is pressed to her cheek, and Angela tucks herself into her side, resting her head on Fareeha’s shoulder. Her legs curl around one of hers, holding her tightly as Fareeha wraps an arm around her.

“You like legs, though.” Angela breathes into her ear. Fareeha rolls her eyes.

“I like your legs. Besides, I’m not afraid of spiders anymore.”

“What, then?” Fareeha’s brow furrows as she considers the question carefully. At first, she wants to blurt out ‘losing you’, which certainly is a fear of hers, but not her greatest fear. Humming in concentration, she casts her mind back, flickering through memories of terror until she has her answer.

“Being unable to act.” She whispers. “Being powerless to stop something, or to do anything.”

Angela squeezes her tightly, inhaling shakily. Their grip on each other tightens, and the night goes on, silent and sure. For once, fear is far away.


End file.
